


Wyoming Christmas

by ScullysGone



Category: Longmire (TV)
Genre: Christmas Morning, F/M, First Christmas, Gift Giving, Surprises, wyoming - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-26
Updated: 2017-12-26
Packaged: 2019-02-23 13:59:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13191552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ScullysGone/pseuds/ScullysGone
Summary: A quiet Christmas morning with the woman he loves.





	Wyoming Christmas

The heady aroma of strong coffee fills the cabin. He presses the grounds through the steamy water and looks across his land. Eighteen inches fell last night, covering the six that fell the day before. The mountain dawn is turning the frozen blanket an ethereal blue; the ranch looks like a dream world. 

He hears her pad softly from the bedroom to the living room, the springs of the couch softly alerting that she is settling into her favorite spot in the middle. His back to her, he can see her clearly in his memory; she’s pulling the horse blanket from the back of the cushions and tucking it under the wool socks on her feet. His wool socks. 

With the cold of winter came the sleeping in clothes; she prefers his shirts that hang to the knees of her long-handles, and his socks. He’s bought her a few pair that actually fit her feet but she refuses to sleep in them. His are warmer, she swears with her sassy little grin. 

Finished with their brew, he pulls the simple box he’s been hiding behind the cans in the pantry. He didn't need to worry about her finding it; she doesn't cook. But they don’t starve, because he’s campfire cook fro way back and he likes surprising her with his creations occasionally. 

She’s brutally honest in her reviews and has banished a few dishes. He hasn’t told her, and likely never will, but he’s made bad ones on purpose, just to make sure she is telling the truth when he asks if she likes her food. 

“Mornin’.”

He hands her the Flyers mug, drops into the corner of the couch between her and the front door, and props his moccasin-clad feet on the coffee table.

“Hi.”

She smiles and he thinks maybe he will never get tired of the picture in front of him. She left the lights off when she came in and the blue glow filtering through the windows has made a halo around her. He pulls a few fingers through her hair and smells the familiar sweetness of her shampoo as she lays her head against his shoulder.

“Whatcha’ thinkin’?”

It’s her favorite question, and this time he actually has a truthful answer.

“I’m thinkin’ this is our first Christmas morning together.”

She moves her head side to side a little.

“No, it isn’t.”

“I don’t mean the first one we’ve spent in each other’s company. I mean ‘together’. Not working.”

“Oh.”

He can hear the smile in her voice and she shifts her body, trying to get closer; she’d have to crawl inside his clothes to get any closer. The thought briefly derails his concentration. 

“I’ve got something for you.”

She pushes up from his shoulder, the blushed cheeks pushing their way up underneath her eyes into that full-face grin he loves so much 

They haven't talked about Christmas. It’s been a hell of a year and things like presents and decorating just didn’t seem to be anything either of them needed. Neither brought it up and they slid into the holiday quietly and comfortably. 

But he’s happy again, for the first time since Martha died, and he wanted to make sure he could make Vic understand her place with him. A surprise gift on Christmas morning seemed like the perfect way to do it. 

As she pulls the knot of twine from the box he hands her, he is as at peace as he’s ever been. 

“What is this?”

The confusion on her face delights him. She’s fun to surprise. 

“Read it.”

She rolls her eyes, his second favorite Vic move, and unfolds the printed paper. 

“It looks like a vet bill. Walt, what the hell is this?” 

He chuckles. 

“It's called a Coggins. It's a blood workup for horses, to see if they have a serious infectious disease that horses can die from. There's no vaccine or cure for the disease; you have to have a clear Coggins if you're going to take a horse across state lines.”

He quits talking and she stares at him. Her eyebrows jump at least an inch up her forehead in her silent ‘and?!’; he holds his tongue. 

“Ok? Well, thanks Walt. I appreciate that little veterinary lesson. Merry Christmas!”

Now he’s belly laughing and she's staring at him like he’s lost his mind. She's so easy to predict, he almost feels guilty pushing her buttons like this. Almost. 

“The Coggins belongs an Appaloosa mare. Her registered name is ‘Boss Lady’s Baby’ but you can call her anything you like. I've been calling her ‘Little Girl’.”

“You're giving me a horse?”

“Yep. She's been in the barn for a week.”

Her face is still perplexed, but softer. She's looking at the lab report, scanning as if understanding but she's really trying to figure out how to hide her disappointment. 

“I got her from Jack Simmons. He swears she’s been gentle as a Summer breeze since she was born. His grandkids ride her bareback. She's never spooked, never thrown anyone, and she's short for her breed. Only fourteen and a half hands. Jack’s wife, Sarah, said she can teach you to ride her in less than a week, that's how easy-going she is.”

“Walt, I'm a city girl. Don’t get me wrong, I love it here. But I'm no cowgirl. I can't ride, you know that. And I don't know anything about taking care of a horse.”

She shrugs her shoulders and her lips purse, her eyes still trained in the paper, and she's right where he wants her; not paying attention to anything he’s doing while he talks. He moves his coffee to his other hand and fiddles between the couch cushions. 

“I think it will be a good thing, Vic. You see, horses take a lot of work. A lot of commitment. They need time and attention; they need love and devotion. And you're already great at all those things.”

The soft smile she says she loves forms across his lips and he locks eyes with her, pushing what he feels inside through the air between them. Without breaking his stare or spilling his coffee, he sets the cup on the end table and takes the Coggins from her hands. 

“I've seen all those things from you already...with me.”

He takes her hand and slides the ring on her finger in one fluid motion; it's a simple band of white and yellow gold and a thatched pattern around the inner portion. She likes shoes and dresses and guns; he's never seen her in flashy jewelry so he took a chance. 

Her eyes move from the ring to his face and back to the ring. A tear falls, landing across the band. He wipes the ring and wipes her face and pushes her hair behind her ear. 

“But I'll make you a deal. I promise to take care of the horse, if you promise to learn to ride her...and to never let me ride alone again.”

**Author's Note:**

> The usual disclaimers: not my characters, but this is my story. No profit. blah blah blah


End file.
